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by Eisenstern. . 56 reads.

On the Gathering Storm




By order of the Guild Council




The following document is restricted to Guild Personnel with Paragon-level clearance




Viewing by an unauthorized party will result in immediate sanction enforcement, by means of an Aetheric geas.
Sanction enforcement extends up to, and encompasses, immediate termination and/or removal of the soul.
Do not proceed past this point without the required soulbound counter-geas.




Kresge knelt.

The room was dark, and a strange sort of fog clung to the floor in wisps and billows, like a fine layer of cobwebs. A singular candle bounced its flickering light through the coils of ether, forming ghostly shapes. The walls - rough stone. Unusual architecture for the Tower, but requirements had to be met. Now, on the far wall, a circle had been drawn, in a substance that was difficult to discern in such low-light conditions - but it certainly wasn't ink. A similar circle surrounded Kresge himself, and in each a series of symbols had been scratched. Strange, alien inscriptions, that seemed to writhe before the observer. Now, some of them shifted - in the wall-circle, they assembled themselves into a vaguely humanoid shape. The shape took on form, substance - it deepened, grew a shadow. Rose out of the stone, and was a drawing no more.

"So... the whelp calls once more."

Kresge looked up at the thing. It was... almost human, actually. But the mind behind it had not entirely comprehended how a human was supposed to be built, how one functioned - the proxy before him was a hollow approximation, and it showed in the fringes. Tiny specks of unreality, subtle morphings to the body that suggested an unnatural bent. A voice that sounded like it wasn't sure what vocal chords were for, exactly, but was making a spirited effort to understand. The Guildmaster stood, and smiled - but there was no humor in it.

"And good morning to you too. It's been a while. Not long enough, by my wager."

The thing laughed, or at the very least emulated a laugh.

"Why have you called me here? To your pitiful hovel, this domicile of filth and-"

Kresge cut him off abruptly. Even his faux smile was gone.

"No, we're not getting into your little diatribes. Believe me, I would certainly not be doing this without good reason. Make no mistake - I still loathe you. For what you've done to her. For the calamity you've caused. But I need something from you, and unfortunately that means giving you something in return. Which, for once, I am willing to do."

"Oho? Swallowing your pride - it is... not something I expected to see you do. But tell me, what could you possibly grant me? I have a great many things to give, but there is naught I want from one like you in return. If anything, I would much rather see you suffer without whatever it is you desire..."

"The heart."

The creature froze. Its eyes seemed to bore into Kresge now, studying him.

"No. You would not hand her over to me. What sort of trickery are you attempting here?"

"Of course I wouldn't. But that's not really what you're after, is it? Its return would be meaningless now - that world is long since dead. But the takers, the thieves. They still hold it. It keeps you from them, does it not? You must feel... powerless."

The shell reared up, seemingly growing taller. Its face began to distort into a maw, and the voice devolved into a series of screeches and growls. All pretense of humanity had been abandoned.

"HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME?"

An arm, now a claw, lashed out - but stopped mere centimeters from Kresge's head. He had not moved a muscle, and continued calmly staring his conversation partner in the eyes.

"I can take it from them. I can enter that which you may not - but I will need your help. Your blessing, if you will."

Slowly, the claw retracted. Became an arm again. The fog, having flared up into geysers, receded to the floor once more.

"What... do you expect as... payment? What boon are you... begging me for in exchange?"

"Beyond helping me with the liberation itself? I want your word. That you will keep yourself from her. From us, forevermore."

The fog grew turbulent once more.

"You expect me to pass it from them to you? You, who has openly declared his loathing for me, his desire to see me fall! Do you think me insane?"

"No. But it will remain tied - bound to that which I desire to safeguard most. Look me in the eye. And see the truth in what I speak."

Except there were no eyes now. The creature stared into those twin voids, and into the freezing fire within. It saw-

It took a step back. Stood silently for a few seconds, before replying.

"...So you propose that the Heart be kept... with you. As part of your..."

It practically spat the word.

"...collection."

Kresge's eyes had returned to their usual appearance.

"Yes. And you would remain free to wage your little war. Believe me, I would be the last one to stop you - you'd need to fight on fairer terms. And you can destroy each other for all I care."

Now the smoke had welled up into a nebulous chair, in which the demon sat. It seemed to hold its weight - whether that was because of the questionable corporeality of the proxy body, or some mystical quality to the smoke itself, was difficult to determine.

"Fine. I accept - on the condition that you too give your word. That no harm will come to the Heart by your hand, or order."

The Guildmaster nodded.

"I accept."

He removed a quill pen from his jacket, and sank the nib into the palm of his hand. The demon did the same with one of its claws, and both now moved to sign a matching pair of parchment scrolls that had just materialized in the air before them. Post-signing, both scrolls began orbiting a central column of smoke.

"What is it that you desire? What possible aid can I provide in a place from which I am barred?"

"Oh, there's a few things. But most importantly, I need a... seed. A fragment of your essence. From what initial recon we've been able to do without risk of discovery, we've found a sort of... ultrapolarized shield. Ludicrously sturdy, but highly vulnerable to what would be its antithesis. You, in this case. I suppose they think the Heart to be enough protection - not like you yourself could cross that threshold and disable the barrier. We could probably pierce it, but... I don't want to take chances with something like this. There are some additional matters, but they are relatively minor. A weapon here, an enchantment there... nothing too complex. But the essence, that forms the core of it all."

The creature nodded, and raised its hand - plunging the fingers into its chest as if it were water, it grimaced slightly. From within, it withdrew a small... object. To describe it would be tricky, since its shape didn't seem to conform to three-dimensional space in any ordered manner. It gleamed a brilliant blue. Kresge extended his hand, and the shard was passed over to him. He examined it critically, before tucking it away inside his jacket.

"This will do. Now, about the final preparations..."


A few minutes later, it was done. Kresge had before him a small wooden box - within were the assembled items. The demon now reclined in its mist-chair, one arm dangling off the armrest.

"All that you asked for has been given. Now... you'd best not disappoint."

"Oh, do not fret. I do not do this for you, after all. They will burn - I owe her that much, at the very least."

"Owe... such petty motivations. Still... should you uphold your end of the bargain, I will leave you to them."

"Farewell, then. You will know when it's done. Oh, and..."

Kresge leaned in closer.

"If ever you find a way of reneging on the contract? If I see your machinations begin anew... there will be a reckoning."

The demon did not, as a matter of fact, feel fear. Fear was an alien concept, something wholly unsuited to the way its mind operated. Something reserved for mortals. And yet, it understood that the threat was by no means empty. It knew anger well - and it saw the anger, nigh-bottomless, seething beneath the surface of calm.

"Rest assured, I do not plan on it. May our paths never cross again."

It began, then, to fade back into the text. The twin scrolls swirled around their column, and were gone in a burst of blue fire. And as the figure vanished, it left behind one echoing remark.

"Which one of us wears a shell, I wonder?"

And then there was nothing left of it but scrawled symbols on the wall. The solitary candle flared up, then burned down in an instant. Kresge stood, in the lightless room, alone. For a moment, the darkness bore twin embers. And a haunting smile.




Eisenstern

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